Inaugural Snapshot, Part II

Union Station, Washington, DC. Amtrak Gate K. Passengers on Northeast Regional 178 are packed together struggling to board. Everyone is exhausted, weary of long lines, hung over, and eager to get home from the Inauguration. A quiet voice squeaks above the fray. “Ellen McQuarry? Ellen McQuarry?” Seconds later, further down the queue, another rings out,…

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Inaugural Snapshot, Part I

I am wedged between a mass of angry, frustrated and anxious Presidential Youth Ball attendees and a phalanx of Police and Secret Service in the Washington, DC, Hilton. With the ballroom at capacity, and POTUS on his way, the men in black are immovable. I reluctantly pull out every item I possess in my defense,…

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Our Better History

Let other people write about yesterday’s other big first; without diminishing the historical significance of Barack Obama’s inauguration as the first-ever African-American president, race wasn’t what reduced me to a sobbing mess. President Barack Obama’s inaugural address was the first time in my life I felt like a politician was speaking to me. It was…

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